


Bubbles and Crumpets

by EverlivingGhosts



Series: Ottery Kisses [1]
Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Fluff, Fun, Love, M/M, Romance, Silly, ill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-31
Updated: 2013-03-31
Packaged: 2017-12-07 02:04:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/742888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EverlivingGhosts/pseuds/EverlivingGhosts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fic in response to the lovely and tantalising headcanon of  "Martin faked an illness to be taken care of by Arthur. Arthur knew it was fake the entire time."</p><p>When Martin falls ill, he doesn't really have anyone to look after him. Luckily, he knows the most helpful person in the universe.</p><p>Hopefully as fluffy as a little woolly baa lamb :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bubbles and Crumpets

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Foxtrots](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foxtrots/gifts).



> I hope I'm not being presumptuous by using this headcanon and writing my own story for it, but it was spinning around in my head and wouldn't leave! For Foxtrots, for coming up with the headcanon and being generally lovely.
> 
> Also, who knows how this got to be over 10,000 words? I started it thinking, oh I'll just write a nice short fic, but I should know my rambling brain by now. Hopefully this will serve as a nice salve from the angst of my other fic! :)
> 
> I'm uploading this in one big chapter because I'm lazy and love you all, even though attempting to space the paragraphs makes me weep.

Martin Crieff did not approve of sick days.

It wasn’t necessarily that he was never ill; he was just of the mind-set that he should grin and bear any illness that he might suffer from lest he miss anything important, which he knew his blasted bad luck would lead to. Of course, as a child he regarded sick days from school to be a wondrous day of motherly fussing and watching bad telly on the sofa; a naughty day of respite from the trials and tribulations of school life. But as soon as he started pursuing his lifelong dream seriously, he valiantly fought off any sniffly nose or aching muscles and forced himself to work. His temperamental man with a van job meant he simply couldn’t afford to be off ill and he knew exactly what Carolyn would be like if he ever called in sick; he would rather suffer with the illness than face her displeasure. 

However, his steely resolve was challenged when he woke up one morning with a horribly blocked up nose and banging headache, sure signs of a miserable cold. He dragged his threadbare covers over his head in an attempt to block out the traitorous sun rays stabbing into his delicate eyes, but he knew he had to get up. Eventually, he threw the covers off, as he knew the coldness of his depressing attic room would encourage him to leave the warm haven of his bed, but it was with the utmost reluctance that he stood up. They were only flying to France, come on, he could manage that! But the thought of being trapped in a plane with the smug, loud voice of Douglas and the well-meaning but extremely loud chatter of Arthur made Martin groan. But he had no choice; he would have to somehow hint to Arthur that he needed a little bit of quietness, laughable though that would probably prove to be.

 

***

 

Carolyn was very annoyed; Martin was late. It was most unlike him as he was usually there first with a little superior grin and a wad of completed paperwork in his hands, wordlessly pleased with himself for being so on the ball. But not today, as even lax Douglas arrived well before their stuttering Captain, which meant that Carolyn had to do all of the paperwork so that they weren’t running late. Arthur had seemed a little concerned, bouncing on the balls of his feet to see if Skip was coming round the corner. Carolyn watched him in irritation.

“Arthur, Martin isn’t going to magically appear. You might as well just sit down.”  
“Wow, imagine if he did just appear? Wouldn’t that be brilliant! Though if he could do that then maybe he wouldn’t have to fly G-ERTI because he’d just be able to go WHOOSH and transport all of the customers and-“ 

They let him carry on; sometimes it was best in the morning to let him build up steam and then run his energy down. Soon enough, they saw Martin round the corner, shoulders hunched from his usual ramrod posture. He was late because he had taken one look at the blustery, cold outdoors and decided he couldn’t leave without a scarf, which would also hopefully cover his embarrassingly red nose. Even though his room was small, the scarf remained elusive until he had tripped over a pile of clothes in the corner and found it. It was a nice dark blue one which he had been given to him from Arthur as a Christmas present when he admitted that he didn’t own a scarf, much to the horror of Arthur. He was surprised that it didn’t have a mad animal print adorning it, but Arthur had simply said that he thought it matched Martin’s eyes, which Douglas didn’t let him hear the end of for a whole week. Suddenly, everything matched Martin’s eyes- the sky, the sea, his uniform, until Martin threatened to strangle Douglas with it and he stopped his teasing with a sly smile. When he entered the portacabin, Douglas looked up at him from his reclined position on the chair and lazily stated,

“Nice for you to finally join us Captain- oh dear, you look terrible!”  
Martin had taken off his scarf, and the rest of the crew took in his red nose, flushed cheeks and tired dark eyes.  
“Has Christmas come early?”  
“What?” Martin snapped, he wasn’t in the mood for any of this.  
“Because I think Rudolph has come for a visit!”  
Martin groaned, this flight was not going to be fun. Carolyn cast a suspicious eye over him.  
“Martin, you do not look well at all. Do not think for one second that I actually care, but I need to know if you are fit to fly.”  
“What? Of course I am! A little cold won’t stop me.”  
He gave a little hysterical laugh, and Arthur bit his lip in concern.  
“It doesn’t look like a little cold though, Skip. It kind of looks like a ‘stay in bed and eat chicken soup with a hot water bottle and fluffy slippers’ sort of cold to me.”  
“I’ll be fine! No, seriously, don’t look at me like that. A couple of minutes in the air and a warm cup of coffee and I’ll be fresh as a daisy.”  
He ignored Douglas’s muttered,  
“Yes, fresh as a daisy at 20,000 feet.”  
Carolyn just cleared her throat, disbelief evident in her voice but obviously eager to continue with the trip.  
“Well, if you are sure, then we should get a move on. Douglas, shift.”  
She prodded his seat with her foot as she moved past and he grumbled, but got up and followed her towards G-ERTI. As Martin turned to leave, he felt a small hand on his shoulder and looked up to see the warm, green eyes of Arthur still staring at him in concern.  
“Skip, are you sure you’re ok? Because when I’m ill I make a little nest in my bed and don’t feel like leaving it, not even to get food. You look a bit like you need a get-well nest.”  
Martin couldn’t help but smile at the mental image of Arthur ensconced in a bundle of covers and probably fluffy toys. A get-well nest did sound inviting, perhaps if he bundled his clothes together he could attempt to recreate it.  
“I’ll be fine, Arthur. But thanks for the tip- maybe I can make it later on.”  
Arthur beamed at him, and they both made their way to G-ERTI.

 

***

 

Martin had to admit that he had misjudged the situation. Somehow, being in the air and having a cup of coffee had made his head pound even more, and now his stomach started feeling a bit unsettled. He tried to retain his composure, but he had always been rubbish at that and of course Douglas couldn’t miss his sniffs and sudden cough. For once, he stopped his teasing and looked at Martin with definite concern.  
“You don’t have to be afraid of Carolyn, you know. If you are ill you shouldn’t force yourself to come to work. It will do us no good if more of us catch the illness.”  
“Yeah, I know, but I sort of feel like I have to come in. if I cause the trips to stop and Carolyn to lose money then I won’t hear the end of it.”  
Douglas looked thoughtful.  
“I’m sure I could handle one or two trips by myself. Or I’ll even suffer the presence of Herc if needs be.”  
This was unusually kind of Douglas. Martin peered at him suspiciously.  
“That’s nice of you. What’s the catch?” Douglas affected a mock wounded expression.  
“Catch, moi? Why only the promise of a future favour. And the Camembert.”  
Evil bastard, he knew Martin loved Camembert! Oh well, it was a small price to pay.  
“Alright. I mean, I’m fine, but we’ll see.” Douglas just had a knowing smile. 

 

*** 

 

An hour later, and Martin had developed a hacking cough. It was so loud that it prompted Carolyn’s head to appear in the doorway.  
“Martin, would you please stop spluttering like a London street urchin?”  
“Can’t help it; ill.”  
She took one look at his streaming nose and still red face.  
“Oh for heaven’s sake! Douglas, you trained to be a doctor- check his temperature.” Ignoring Martin’s protestations, Douglas put a hand on his forehead. He sucked in a breath.  
“Ooh, that’s quite a high temperature, Captain. Still feeling fresh as a daisy, or more scorched as a daisy left in the sun for too long?”  
“Oh, sod off!”  
“Martin,” Carolyn’s voice cut in sharply, her most no nonsense tone.  
“I won’t have you being ill on a flight. It’s dangerous, and if it got too bad I would have to fill an unhealthy amount of paperwork. Loathe though I am to say this, I am going to give you time to recover.”  
Martin went even redder with embarrassment.  
“You don’t have to-“  
“Of course I do. I might come across as a hard-nosed old lady but I cannot allow my plane to be run by ill pilots. I’ll give you a few days and hopefully that blasted cold will have cleared.”  
“T-thanks.”  
Carolyn left, and Martin was left nursing his still pounding head. He was feeling very tired now, so he reluctantly swapped places with Douglas even though he didn’t want to. But Martin wasn’t an idiot; he knew having a tired pilot flying the plane would lead to poor decisions and possibly danger, so he swallowed his pride and let Douglas take his prized Captain’s chair. Douglas smiled at him sweetly.  
“Need a little blanket, oh ill Captain?”  
“It’s not going to be like a holiday, you know. I’ll be suffering.”  
“Won’t we all, Martin, won’t we all.”

 

***

 

It was only a short cargo trip to France, so the flight went on easily, even though Martin wished he was still tucked up in bed. He knew if he fell asleep he wouldn’t hear the end of it, so he willed himself awake and stumbled out of the aeroplane with the others when they landed. Arthur had heard him coughing in the flight deck and had wracked his brains to think of what people needed when they had a cold. He always had chicken soup, but he wasn’t sure if he would be able to find some at the airport. They all sat down in a café to wait, and Carolyn sent Arthur to fetch the drinks with very specific instructions. Martin gave up all pretence and lay his head on the table, prompting Carolyn and Douglas to exchange an amused glance.

“Having fun down there, Martin?”  
“Yeah, loads of fun. Feel like G-ERTI’s been bouncing around inside my head.”  
“You’re an idiot, Martin. Make sure you have someone to look after you when you get back. And don’t look at me; I’m busy running a business in case anyone has noticed.”

Martin almost snorted; who would look after him? He couldn’t ask his Mum, as he didn’t want her to bother over this, and he did not want to ask Simon or Caitlin at all. He would just suffer alone, as he always did. Soon enough, Arthur reappeared with all of their steaming drinks. Martin hadn’t asked for one, feeling queasy and having no money, but Arthur nonetheless placed a cup in front of him. Martin breathed in the strange aroma warily.  
“Arthur, what-“  
Arthur looked a little flustered; he always got a bit muddled when he felt a little embarrassed or had done an especially kind deed.  
“Oh, it’s brilliant, Skip! I was talking to the nice lady on the till and I said that I had a friend who had a cold and she said lemon was supposed to be good for it, which made me feel a little sad because we haven’t really had lemons on G-ERTI since the Traveling Lemon. But then she said that they did a lemon tea and that she’d put some honey in it too free of charge!”  
Martin toyed with the cup, then took a cautious sip. Arthur watched him nervously.  
“I mean, it’s ok if you don’t like hot lemon, I thought it sounded a little odd, but-“  
“No, it’s great, thanks. Lovely, actually…thank you.” And it was. He took another sip, and while it obviously didn’t cure his cold, it helped to clear his head a little. Douglas had watched their little exchange with amusement.  
“Well, Martin. You finally get bought a drink and it’s from Arthur!”  
Martin flicked a packet of sugar at Douglas, making Carolyn tut but Douglas laugh, dodging the flying missile. Arthur, for once, was quietly pleased, happy that he had finally gotten something right. 

 

The flight home was uneventful, mainly because Martin did finally succumb to a fitful sleep. Douglas, never one to miss an opportunity, had tried to combat the boredom of a sleeping Martin by placing lots of things on him and taking lots of pictures. Arthur came in at one point and weakly attempted to stop him, but couldn’t resist it when Douglas plucked Martin’s hat off his head and let Arthur sit in the Captain’s seat for a few moments. Eventually, Arthur went back into the galley and fetched one of their emergency blankets from the cupboard, returned to the flight deck and carefully placed it on Martin’s sleeping form. Douglas watched with his eyebrows raised.  
“Aww, little baby Martin.”  
“I can’t let him sleep without a blanket. What if he was cold?”  
Douglas couldn’t really disagree, and he watched with interest as Arthur tucked the covers tenderly around Martin, looked a little flustered when he saw Douglas watching him, then excused himself. How peculiar. 

 

***

 

When they got back to Fitton, Martin was very embarrassed to find that he had fallen asleep, but actually felt quite comfortable in the chair with the blanket. He had no idea where that had come from, but he saw Arthur stashing it in a cupboard so he thought he knew who the culprit was. Carolyn said she would drive him home and he accepted the lift gratefully. He decided that as soon as he got home, he was going to take Arthur’s advice and burrow into his bed, hopefully to sleep the cold away. Carolyn hoped that he had someone to help him, as she knew how hopeless Arthur could be when ill. Perhaps one of the students he lived with would be willing to lend a hand? If not, she knew at least one person who could be counted on to help someone no matter what…

When Martin left the car, his head was still pounding with a vengeance, so he muttered his thanks and stumbled out, hauling himself up the flights of stairs to his attic flat. He found some spare blankets in his cupboard and flumped onto his bed with them, wrapping them around his somehow shivering body. He felt both hot and cold, and just wanted to sleep this confusing illness away. His last thoughts before he drifted off were him wondering if the students downstairs would have any lemon tea.

 

***

 

If Martin had hoped that the next day his illness would have magically disappeared, he was sorely disappointed. He woke up sniffling and with a growling stomach, but honestly didn’t have the energy to move out of his bed. He lay there in a stupor for a couple of hours, then decided if he didn’t get up to make any food he would be forced to chew on his own hat. He heaved himself out of his bed and scrambled round his fairly bare cupboards until he found some bread. He made himself some toast and munched it dejectedly, wishing he had something a bit more sustaining but knowing he wouldn’t be able to make it to the shops in this state. He thought a bath might make him feel better, but the thought of hauling himself in and out of the tub made him feel queasy, so he put it off for the moment. His television was on the blink at the moment, so he couldn’t even watch any rubbish programs to pass the time. Annoyed with himself, he settled on the bed in a grumpy silence; he didn’t want to sleep, but he had nothing else to do. After a while, his fitful rest was disrupted by a ringing tone. He frowned and reached for his mobile.

“H-hello?”  
“Hi Skip, it’s Arthur!  
“Oh, er, hi Arthur. What, why-“  
“Sorry if I’m disturbing you but Mum wanted me to ask if you had someone to help you while you were ill because she thought you might have been lying yesterday.”  
“She said that?”  
“Well, not exactly, but I can tell. She seems a bit worried actually, but you know Mum, she doesn’t want you to know that.”  
“No, I suppose she wouldn’t.”  
“Anyway, do you have anyone to look after you?”  
“Arthur, I’m not a child! I can look after myself!”  
Arthur’s voice turned horrified.  
“Oh no, you can’t be alone, not when you’re ill! What if you need something but can’t reach? Do you have any soup? Please tell me you have some get-well soup.”  
Martin wanted to lie, but it was actually surprisingly hard to lie to Arthur.  
“Not exactly. I have toast-“  
“Toast! You can’t have get- well toast! Right, I’m coming round-“  
Martin’s voice was strangled, shocked.  
“Arthur, there is no need! I’ll be fine, I’ll be-“  
His words were cut off by a traitorous cough which had decided at that moment to take over his speech. He could hear Arthur’s resolve harden.  
“Don’t try and stop me, Skip, there’s no way you are going to be ill and alone. And soupless. Give me a bit of time and I’ll be round as soon as I can.”  
Martin tried to complain but he was cut off by a cheery goodbye and decided to give up with a resigned sigh. His room was a mess but he knew Arthur wouldn’t judge him. He probably thought mess was brilliant anyway. He simply laid back and awaited the inevitably enthusiastic arrival of Arthur. 

 

***

 

He had almost drifted back off to sleep when he heard a jolly knocking on his door. He wanted to get up and let Arthur in like a decent human being did when a guest came over to their home, but Martin simply could not get up. He settled on a weak,  
“Come in!”  
He had mercifully left the door unlocked, so it was soon opened and a bubbling Arthur emerged, holding a large bag.  
“Hi Skip! Wow, you live in a big house!”  
“Yeah, shame it’s not all mine. Welcome to the dingy attic.”  
“Oh no, it’s not dingy at all! It’s, it’s,” He cast his eyes around wildly for a compliment.  
“Just like a clubhouse! I’ve always wanted a clubhouse!”  
“Arthur, it’s a tip.”  
“That’s alright. Sometimes my room gets really messy and Mum shouts at me, but I don’t really mind it because I still know where everything is! If it’s bothering you I can help clear up.”  
Martin flushed at the earnestness of Arthur’s voice.  
“You can’t come round and clear up my house, that’s unfair. I’ll do it when I’m better.”  
“I don’t mind cleaning up, not at all! I get loads of practice on G-ERTI and it’s kind of nice when everything gets put in its proper place because it feels like you’re returning them to their proper home.” 

Of course Arthur would find the fun in something as mundane as cleaning up- Martin hadn’t expected anything else. Arthur looked around for a place to put his bag and settled on placing it carefully on the kitchen worktop. It settled with a soft clunk, so Martin eyed it warily.  
“What have you got there?”  
Arthur opened the bag and reached in, lifting out a bright red flask. He grabbed a spoon from Martin’s drying rack and sidled up to him lying on the bed. He sat next to him, causing a little dip in the bed.  
“I told you I’d bring you soup, and I never, ever break my promises. I even found a flask so it would stay nice and warm! Isn’t that brilliant?” He lifted off the lid and Martin inhaled a delicious aroma of chicken soup.  
“That’s very kind of you, Arthur. I’m sorry you went to all the trouble of doing this.”  
“It was no trouble; I absolutely love helping people! Here, have some while it’s still warm.” 

Luckily, Arthur still thought Martin to be somewhat capable as he handed him the spoon rather than feeding him, as Martin had half expected. He dipped the spoon into the flask and took a mouthful; God, proper food. Heaven.  
“Mmm, this is amazing. Where is it from?”  
Arthur had a sheepish little smile and looked immensely pleased with Martin’s reaction.  
“I-I made it myself.”  
Martin immediately spluttered, then felt awful as Arthur’s face dropped. He hastily took another spoonful.  
“No, no, it’s delicious! I didn’t mean to be shocked, I just didn’t know, well,”  
“You didn’t think I could cook.”  
Oh no, his voice sounded sad. Martin tried desperately to remedy the situation.  
“Well, I suppose I haven’t really tasted anything you’ve made outside of G-ERTI.”  
“I love cooking. Mum usually shouts at me when I try to experiment, but I love experimenting because it’s just so much fun! I’m not an idiot; I can follow recipes. I just… like to do my own thing sometimes.”

Now, Martin had been the victim of many of these ‘experiments’, but this soup was really something else. He felt awful; it must be terrible knowing you could do something but having no one trust you enough to show it to.

“Well, this soup is lovely. I’m not going to tell Douglas otherwise he’ll just steal it all for himself.”  
Arthur smiled delightedly at him again, watching him slowly work through the soup. He carried on speaking even though Martin was busy eating, so it was more of a one-sided conversation, but Arthur was well used to that.

“I usually make that one for when Mum’s ill. She thinks it’s a Jamie Oliver recipe and it kind of is but I’ve added a few things, secret ingredients though! I haven’t exactly told her but she likes it so I make it whenever anyone feels a bit peaky. That’s why I am a bit late because I made it before I came. Oh, no need to look at me like that- I’ve had some too so it was technically my dinner. So you can’t feel bad because you’re just sharing my dinner. Ha!”

Martin knew he was beaten, and he finished the soup. His stomach felt much better now he had some properly nourishing food, and he yawned. Arthur took the flask from him.  
“Right, now you’ve had some food do you need a little sleep? I don’t mind at all- I’ll find something to do.”  
“Are you sure? I feel a bit rude just sleeping now you’re here. I’m a bit bored of sleeping.”  
“Hmm.”  
Arthur looked down at the bed, his face creased up in thought.  
“Ooh, I know! I’ll make you a proper get-well nest! The one you’ve made is pretty good, but I can make it extra super brilliant! It always is when someone helps.”  
The thought was actually quite tantalising, and Arthur looked so excited at the thought of this that Martin didn’t have the heart to refuse him.  
“Sounds great! Do you need me to do anything?”  
“Don’t you worry about anything, Skip. I’ve got this. You don’t mind if I have a little root around for stuff, do you?”  
“Not at all; use anything. I’ll watch with bated breath.”

Arthur sprung off the bed, so eager to have a task that was approved of. Martin didn’t have many possessions, but he wasn’t a total scrimper and did have some clothes and blankets stashed away. Arthur cast a critical eye over the mound of clothes and blankets he had amounted and peered over at Martin’s head.

“How many pillows do you have?”  
“Err, just the one actually.”  
Arthur looked scandalised.  
“One pillow….one…but don’t you need two to feel comfortable?”  
“Well, I have managed to survive with one over the years-“  
“Right, back in a second!” 

Before Martin could ask what he was doing, Arthur practically flew from the room. Oh well, the students were supposed to be prepared for any situation so he supposed they would be able to handle an excitable Arthur. A few moments later, Arthur returned with a satisfied expression and no less than four pillows in his arms. Martin looked at him weakly.  
“How, where-“  
“Silly Skip- didn’t you know that student housing had spare sleeping supplies in the cupboards in case anyone needed anything? I know it’s technically for the students but I told them you were ill and they said I could take anything I needed which I thought was really nice of them. They say get well soon!”  
“Oh. Ok, I’ll thank them when I’m better. What’s the next step?”

Arthur placed the pillows next to Martin and gingerly lifted his head, placing one underneath. Martin usually slept with one pillow even when it became horribly lumpy, so this was an unusual luxury. When his head was settled onto the plump pillow, Arthur arranged the rest around him, so he was surrounded by a kind of fluffy wall. Martin wasn’t very tall, but this delighted Arthur as it meant that he could fit more around him. He busied himself with placing covers around Martin and folding clothes to make sure his feet were warm and to fill any pesky air holes. Martin’s attic room had dodgy heating which he could rarely afford to have on, and now the cold draught that usually pervaded had disappeared as Martin was ensconced in a warm cocoon of covers and care. Arthur moved back and admired his handiwork; he had never seen Martin look so comfortable. Martin let out another yawn.

“Thank you, Arthur. I think I’ll just, I mean I might…” 

His words were lost as his illness induced fatigue took over. Arthur settled himself next to Martin on the bed and took in his soft, light eyelashes and flushed skin, which gave him a funny warm feeling. He would be a good friend and watch over Martin in case he became worse. When Martin’s serene expression was interrupted by a slight frown and some spouted gibberish, Arthur put his hand on his ginger curls and stroked them until he was silent again. Martin soon settled into silence, a slight smile on his face. Arthur settled on watching him in delight, not bored in the slightest. 

 

***

 

A couple of hours later, Martin woke up feeling very comfortable, but also very hot. He let out a small cough, squirming in the bed and felt a hand stroking his head, soothing him. He basked in the attention until he remembered that the hand belonged to Arthur. Embarrassed, he cleared his throat.  
“Oh no, was I asleep for long?”  
“Not at all, you need little sleeps if you’re ill! How are you feeling?”  
Truth be told, he felt a little sweaty and disgusting. The get-well nest was lovely, but Martin thought he might appreciate it more if he was clean.  
“I quite fancy a bath, actually-“.  
He stopped, embarrassed. Had he just invited Arthur to sort him out a bath? But Arthur of course looked delighted at the suggestion.  
“Oh yes, a bath! That always makes me feel better when I’m ill. In fact, I brought a little something just in case.”  
Martin looked at him in bemusement, so Arthur went over to his bag in the kitchen and brought out a small bottle.  
“It’s bubble bath! Nothing makes you feel better more than a bubble bath!”  
“Arthur Shappey, did you come round hoping you could lure me into having a bubble bath?”  
Now where the hell did that flirtatious sentence come from? He saw Arthur flush, then twiddle the bottle in his hands, but he couldn’t help but notice a smile on his face.  
“Well, if you insist, Skip, I’ll be glad to assist if you need any…help.”

Wait, had Arthur just flirted back? Could Arthur flirt? It seemed so, and the offer hung in the air between them. Martin’s head was blank, but luckily Arthur took the initiative.  
“I’ll just put it on for you, is it just through here?”

Arthur asked this sweetly as he headed for the bathroom. Martin nodded and heard Arthur put on the taps and pour the bubble bath in. He was beginning to feel very flushed, and he knew it wasn’t just because of his illness. He was enjoying this time with Arthur; in fact he didn’t usually spend so much time with him outside of work. When Arthur came back into the room and chatted to him while they waited for the bath to fill, he reflected that it was nice seeing Arthur outside of the usual stress of passenger flights. Martin knew Arthur didn’t mean to come across as stupid; it was just that he got a bit overwhelmed by situations, and it was very pleasant to just have a conversation with him which contained no pressure or carefulness. Arthur was enjoying spending time just with Martin, as there was usually another person around, and when it was just those two together he could sneak glances at his Skip, who he always idolised from afar. They chatted until it seemed like the bath would be ready, so Arthur went to check it and called back through the door.

“The bath’s ready, Skip! Wow, that bubble bath mixture is great- there’s loads! I’m jealous!”  
Arthur came back into the room and easily lifted Martin out of the bed, who would have felt resentful that Arthur managed to do this so easily, but enjoyed the feel of the steward’s hands around his waist. He set Martin on the floor and settled himself on the bed, looking somewhat wistful.  
“You have your bath now, Skip. Call me if you need anything.” 

Now, Arthur was a very innocent person, or at least he seemed to be, so Martin wasn’t sure if he could find any double meaning in these words. He was grateful that Arthur was letting him get undressed and thought he was capable enough, and he lowered himself into the glorious bubbles with a sigh. It was very, very pleasant sitting there in the calm bath, but for once being alone was making him feel sad. Arthur had seen him hundreds of times over the years when they shared hotel rooms getting changed, and the bubbles seemed to offer quite a thick covering. He gathered up his courage and cleared his throat.  
“Er, Arthur?”  
The voice was sweet, eager in reply.  
“Yes, Skip?”  
“I’m in the bath now, you can, I mean if you want to, you can come in and chat. I don’t mind.”  
Martin hated his body, hated the thought that anyone would see it, but after all he was carefully hidden by the bubbles and he knew Arthur wouldn’t even think about it. He heard tentative footsteps and Arthur’s head appeared at the doorway.  
“Are you sure you don’t mind?”  
And for once, Martin found he couldn’t care less.  
“Not at all. I’ve been enjoying our little chats.”

So Arthur came in and sat on the toilet next to Martin. The bathroom was very small as the bath took up a vast majority of the space, so Arthur was very close to Martin and he tried very hard not to stare and make him feel uncomfortable. But he couldn’t help it; he took in Martin’s damp, glorious hair and thought about him hidden under the bubbles, and felt like he needed to say something before he did something foolish.  
“So, have you made a bubble beard yet?”  
“A bubble what?”  
Arthur reached into a drift of bubbles next to Martin’s shoulder and brought out a handful. Without thinking, he pressed it to Martin’s chin and laughed at his surprised expression.  
“See, a bubble beard! You look like Father Christmas now, though I don’t think he has ginger hair.”  
Martin laughed and decided on some revenge. He reached over and Arthur stared as he saw his chest glistening in the water, but was shocked as Martin pressed a handful of bubbles to his chin.  
“Arthur Christmas!”  
This prompted them to laugh together and immediately begin a kind of bubble war, lobbing handfuls of the mix at each other. Arthur reached over to give Martin a bubble hat and his hand slipped on the side of the bath, causing him to lose his balance and crash into Martin, his face colliding with his chest. Martin had grabbed his head to stop him from dunking it in the water, and Arthur’s face was sopping wet. His mouth full of bubbles, he tried to splutter an apology.  
“Oof, sorry skip! I hope I didn’t-“  
But Martin just cradled Arthur’s face to his chest, not caring at the intimacy or ridiculousness of the situation, feeling his sopping wet hair.  
“Thank you for looking after me, Arthur. I really appreciate it.”

Without thinking, Arthur pressed a little kiss to his chest, savouring the soft, silky skin. Immediately, he tried to cover it up through faking a coughing fit, desperately hoping Martin hadn’t noticed. Of course Martin had, but he didn’t want to spoil the moment. He relinquished his hold of Arthur’s head, so Arthur stood up and faced the door.  
“Err, I’ll er stand here if you want to get out.” 

Martin heaved himself out of the bath, glad that Arthur had given him a little privacy. He wrapped a towel round himself and tapped Arthur on the shoulder.  
“Hmm?”  
“Here, you take a towel too. Your head is sopping wet!”  
Their bubble fight had indeed left Arthur slightly wet, his stewards uniform fairly soaked. He followed Martin into his room, rubbing his hair with the towel.  
“I might take my waistcoat off, actually. Do you have a radiator?” Martin pointed it out to him, and when Arthur busied himself with that he slipped on an old t-shirt and a pair of boxers. He slid back into his warm nest and Arthur sat beside him again. Even though Martin could see that he was trying to stop, he could see Arthur lightly shivering in his cold room. To hell with it.  
“Arthur, are you cold?”  
“No, not at all! Oh, fine, maybe a little but I’ll be fine in a bit-“  
Martin lifted the covers.  
“Come on in.”

Martin was starting to enjoy being ill. It meant he could pretty much do what he wanted and could blame it at a later date on illness induced deliriousness. Arthur looked unsure, then lowered himself onto the bed.  
“Are you sure? I don’t want to take up all the room.” 

Martin grabbed him and pulled him in and this is what made the nest complete; another person. It turned out they didn’t have that much room, so Martin was forced to squash right up close to Arthur, who for once seemed very quiet. Martin hoped he hadn’t forced him into doing something he didn’t want to do, but he felt tentative hands reach round and clasp round his body. He closed his eyes and let all the tension leave his muscles, sinking into the warm embrace. He felt Arthur’s head on his shoulder and instead of it feeling strange it just felt very, very right. He didn’t want to sleep, not now not ever, but the combination of a lovely warm bath and a lovely warm Arthur was too much.

“Night, Arthur.”  
“…Goodnight, Martin.”  
Martin hardly had enough time to wonder about the use of his actual name. He drifted off in utter comfort, and Arthur pressed his lips to his hair in contentment. 

 

***

 

Martin woke to an empty bed, feeling very bereft and then chastising himself. They had a flight today; of course Arthur had to leave. He couldn’t help pouting; he still felt ill and realised he wanted Arthur to stay looking after him. Really wanted him to. His wish was granted when a fully clothed Arthur emerged from the bathroom, spotting that Martin was awake.

“Oh, good morning Skip! I’m sorry, I’ve got to pop out for a flight today- I’ll try and come back later though. Here, I’ve made you some porridge and there’s some soup in a pan; you just need to heat it up.”

Arthur really was the sweetest person. He was clearly in a rush, but he’d had the time to prepare Martin enough food to get through the day with no trouble and Martin could see he had begun to do some tidying up. He sat up and Arthur handed him a tray containing a steaming bowl. Martin took a mouthful and nearly shook his head; he had no idea how Arthur knew how he took his porridge, plenty of milk and sugar.

“You are full of surprises.”  
“Aww, thanks Skip. See you later!”

Arthur hovered next to him to give Martin a goodbye hug, but he didn’t want to upset the bowl of porridge. Without even thinking about it, he leant down and pressed a quick kiss to Martin’s head and practically danced out of the room. Martin watched him go in wonder, feeling strangely sad to see him go and trying to resist the urge to touch his hair where he had been kissed. He was already looking forward to the evening. 

 

*** 

 

It was indeed evening by the time Arthur returned, looking less than enthusiastic. Martin had been bored out of his mind, reading books from his shelf that he had read hundreds of times before. He sat up eagerly as Arthur moved in and frowned at his unhappy face.  
“Hello- Arthur what’s wrong?”  
Arthur tried to smile, waving away the question.  
“Oh, nothing, it’s nothing.”  
“Come on, you can tell me.”  
Arthur sat on the bed and sighed.  
“The passengers weren’t very nice today. I tried chatting to them and I was telling them about you but they told me to shut up. “  
They must have been horrible if Arthur said they were bad; usually he thought everyone was brilliant. He looked like he needed cheering up, so Martin patted the bed next to him.  
“Fancy coming in again?”

Arthur’s face erupted with delight, and he jumped under the covers. He laughed as he put his arms around Martin, as Martin tried to wriggle away from his cold hands, pretending to complain and secretly loving it. Arthur pressed his chilly hands onto Martins stomach, and they both became breathless with giggles. Neither man said anything when Arthur didn’t move his hands away. Martin had been so bored; he was so thrilled with the company.

“Would you tell me about your day?”  
Arthur faltered slightly before answering. No one ever asked him about his day, in fact people rarely asked him anything if he knew he was going to go off on a ramble. But here Martin was, and he actually sounded genuinely interested for once.  
“Are, are you sure? I don’t want to bore you.”  
“I really want to hear about it though. Then we can think up suitably evil revenges for those horrible passengers.”  
“Skip, that’s mean! But ok, I’ll tell you. Stop me if I get too rambly.”

And so, Arthur set off on telling Martin about his day, from the little birds he had seen flying round the airfield to Herc and Douglas trying to outdo each other on the cabin address. Arthur could talk for England, but Martin found that he enjoyed his storytelling immensely. Arthur could find wonder in the smallest things; having enough biscuits in a packet to share between everyone equally, giving everyone their aeroplane food without making even one mistake and even enjoying turbulence as it made him ‘feel like he was in an action film’. Martin laughed plentifully, and Arthur seemed delighted with his audience. Arthur, whilst lost in his talking, had begun stroking Martin’s stomach and although it was done innocently and was enjoyable, Martin began to feel a little hot’ his body reacting embarrassingly. Before he embarrassed himself, he turned around to face Arthur.

“Can I get you any food?”  
“It’s alright. You seem a little better now, do you think you could manage a meal? I brought some stuff to cook.” 

He sounded a little sad and Martin knew why. He was beginning to feel better, as it seemed that it had been one of those colds that was really awful one day and then slowly petered out. He did still feel a bit ill, but being looked after properly had done wonders for him physically and mentally and he knew that when he was well he didn’t really have an excuse to have Arthur look after him, which made him feel suddenly sad. 

“I’ve been lying around all day, how about I help you? You could teach me a thing or two.”  
“Yes, that sounds brilliant! Ooh, I can’t wait! I didn’t want to make anything that would make you feel queasy so I bought some pizza bases so we can make the tomato sauce and our own toppings! One day I’ll make the bases because it’s so much fun making them yourself but I’ve been a bit strapped for time today.”

He looked a little worried at this confession, but Martin was touched that he had gone to so much effort.  
“That sounds amazing. You had better lead the way, oh mighty chef!” 

Arthur reluctantly moved his hands from around Martin, and Martin tried to calm himself down. Arthur didn’t seem to have noticed, and he practically bounced from the bed, grabbing Martin’s wrists and lifting him out from the warm covers. He spun Martin round then made his way to the kitchen area.  
“Right, I’ll make the tomato sauce and you can cut the cheese and toppings. I got mozzarella because it’s brilliant when it melts and I wasn’t sure what toppings you would like, so I got loads!”

Cooking with Arthur was a very fun experience. He was very patient and was never disappointed with anything Martin did, even though Martin wasn’t very good at cutting things or cooking in general. He was clearly so happy with the company, smiling at Martin’s poorly sliced salami and mushrooms and giving him helpful tips. Martin’s kitchen was very small, but Arthur seemed to fill it with a light that hadn’t been there previously, making the somewhat monotonous task of cooking seem like an incredibly fun treat. Martin decided that no matter what, he was going to invite him round more often, even though he would only be able to offer him something dull like pasta. He was sure Arthur would think it was brilliant anyway. 

“Righto, Skip! The sauce is ready so I’ll just spread it on, like this. Ok, the one on the left is mine so the one on the right is yours. Let’s decorate them, and there’s no need to be shy with the toppings!”  
They both decided to have a little bit of everything, mushrooms, peppers, olives, sweet corn, ham, and after they put the cheese on Arthur arranged the salami on each, one with an ‘A’ and the other with an ‘M’.  
“Just so we don’t get confused!” he explained brightly.  
The pizzas weren’t going to take long, so they decided to clear up together, and Martin’s suspicions proved right as Arthur said he loved washing up.  
“Ooh, how could you not like it though? You see things becoming clean again and it’s like YEAH!”  
And, with Arthur’s help, even Martin could see the beauty in it. When the oven beeped they took the pizzas out and ate them on the bed, giving up the television as a bad job and being content just to talk. Martin was glad they hadn’t got a greasy take away pizza as these really were tasty and it felt good to have something that was nearly home-made.  
“So, Arthur, what are you doing tomorrow?”  
Arthur was taking a large bite out of his pizza and munched for a bit before answering.  
“Well, there isn’t a flight planned but Mum said she had a couple of jobs for me to do. But she did say if you were still ill she’d allow me to stay and look after you.”  
Martin felt silly as he immediately began to hope that he would wake up feeling as ill as yesterday.  
“You don’t have to give up your day for me, although I do appreciate it.”  
“I’ve been enjoying myself; it really has been no bother.”

Martin smiled; it had been rather fun. Maybe, even if he did wake up feeling well he could… no he couldn’t lie. Or could he? He felt he was allowed to be selfish just this once. They finished the pizza and Martin cast around for something for them both to do. Eventually, he found a battered set of playing cards and tentatively challenged Arthur to a few games; he was tentative because he and Douglas had attempted to teach Arthur card games in the past, and it had not been a successful venture. But he discovered that playing card games with Arthur was actually quite fun as long as you didn’t take it too seriously, and were willing to allow Arthur to make up his own rules. For once, Martin didn’t mind being beaten because when Arthur won, which he did perplexingly often, he did it with no smugness or nastiness, just with a sense of glee that it meant they could start another game. The only game that Martin could win at no matter what was Snap, because when Arthur spotted a matching pair of cards instead of placing his hand on it he would just squeal with delight and flail his arms, just happy that he had seen a pair. When they eventually grew tired of playing card games, Arthur went into the kitchen and made them both a hot chocolate, as he had brought chocolate powder and marshmallows with him. They sipped them together companionably on the bed, Martin barely able to conceal his smile.

“Is Carolyn not worried that you’ve not been at home?”  
“I'm not sure- she’s been having Herc round I think and I don’t like to get in the way even though Herc is brilliant and really nice to me. She gave me a bit of a funny look when I said I was probably staying over, I have no idea why.”

Martin couldn’t help but laugh; Carolyn knew how small Martin’s room was and either thought he would be staying on the floor or sharing the bed, and didn’t really want to think about it. Arthur was so innocent; he probably thought nothing of sleeping in Martin’s bed with him. They lay on the bed again chatting for a while about everything and nothing, and this time it was Arthur who fell asleep first, worn out by his long day. Arthur might have been much taller than Martin, but Martin managed to drag him under the covers and curled up around him, using him as a large and comfortable pillow. He fell asleep easily and wondered why he hadn’t been doing this for years. 

 

***

 

In the morning, Martin woke up feeling refreshed and alert. Damn it, no! He didn’t want to feel well, he wanted to be ill! He looked up and saw Arthur’s sweetly sleeping face, his mouth open and long lashes ghosting his cheeks, and decided he was going to be sneaky. He burrowed more into him and waited for him to wake. It wasn’t long before Arthur’s eyes snapped open and he looked down at Martin with a little smile, gently nudging him awake.  
“Good morning, Skip. How are you feeling?”  
“Hmm…Oh, not so good.”  
Arthur’s smile went even wider. When Martin first became ill he’d had these very deep shadows under his eyes and sickly pale skin adorned with ill, flushed cheeks. But this morning he had regained more colour, even though he was naturally pale. In fact, he looked much, much better but Arthur could see him looking up at him with puppy dog eyes, so he decided to play along.  
“Oh no! I guess I’ll have to look after you then.”  
Martin felt a guilty sense of pleasure, but tried to affect a neutral expression.  
“I’d like that.”

Arthur was very happy that Skip seemed to want him to stay round for a bit longer. Even though he loved flying in G-ERTI, he was having a lovely time with Martin. He hoped he could find some excuses in the future to come round more often so they could spend more time together. Martin felt guilty again as Arthur proclaimed that because he was ill he would make them both breakfast, but he knew Arthur would relish the job so he didn’t put up much of a fight. Soon, a crumpet was placed into his hand, plentiful jam spread on the top. He took a bite and savoured the delicious strawberry flavour, one of his favourites. He saw Arthur about to take a bite of his own, when alarm bells rang. He jumped across the bed with a shout and knocked the crumpet from his hand. Arthur looked a little hurt.

“Oh, do you not like them?”  
“No, no, oh God you didn’t eat any did you? I only have strawberry jam!”  
Suddenly, realisation dawned on his face.  
“I-I forgot-“  
“Did you bring your allergy medicine with you?”  
Arthur shook his head, a frightened expression on his face at how close he had been to danger. Martin let out a sigh.  
“You need to be more careful, Arthur. I couldn’t bear it if something happened and I couldn’t help you.”  
Suddenly, he was knocked back into the bed as Arthur jumped on him and gave him a massive hug.  
“You saved me! Thank you Skip, Mum would have gone absolutely mental if she found out I ate strawberries again!”  
Martin couldn’t speak, squashed against the bed as he was. He remembered when Arthur had had an allergic reaction once on a trip and they hadn’t been able to find his epipen; it was awful because Arthur got really worried, working himself up into a state and making himself even worse and he had never seen Carolyn so scared. He patted him on the back and managed to squeeze out some words.  
“You’re welcome, let’s get you something else, hmm?”  
Arthur let go and eyed the facedown crumpet with fear. Martin decided to get up and finish his breakfast with him in the kitchen, as he knew Arthur needed a little calm down after a fright.  
“How did you even find out you were allergic to strawberries?”  
“Well, it makes me feel a bit sad because they are such a lovely colour and shape, and when I’ve accidentally eaten them they taste so nice. But when I was little we had some growing in the garden and I ate one and couldn’t speak which you can imagine was a bit of a shock. I had to go to hospital and even though the ambulance was absolutely brilliant it wasn’t nice seeing Mum crying.”  
Martin could not imagine Carolyn crying, but it must have been horrible to see your only child in such a distress.  
“That sounds awful. I’m so glad you’re ok.”  
“It’s fine, I’m just supposed to be careful. I guess I was just a bit distracted.”  
Martin decided he would keep a vigilant watch on Arthur from now on, and he watched carefully as Arthur made a new crumpet for himself and spread only butter on it. When they were done, Arthur looked at Martin hopefully.

“I know you’re ill, but do you fancy a little walk? Fresh air’s supposed to be brilliant for you especially if you’ve been inside for ages.”  
Martin did actually feel like stretching his legs and was just about to comment on how well he felt when he stopped himself. He attempted a cough but it sounded pathetic even to his own ears.  
“I think I could manage that, I just need to get some layers on.”  
He found a jacket and his coat and lifted his scarf from a pile at the foot of his bed. Arthur grinned widely when he saw it, and he saw that Arthur had a vibrant yellow one on with little bees, which Martin thought was absolutely perfect for him.  
“Nice scarf, Arthur.”  
“Aww, thanks Skip! I nearly got it for you but I thought you would prefer that blue one because it’s sort of your shade of blue, like the sky when we fly at night. Do you have any gloves?”  
Martin shook his head, prompting Arthur to look at him in horror.  
“Skip, why do you have no winter wear? You must be awfully cold all the time. Here, I have some, we can have one each!”  
He handed Martin one of his which had bees on to match the scarf, and he gave Martin a look that warranted no argument. Arthur went over and secured Martin’s scarf so it was covering more of his face against the imminent cold, looked at him in satisfaction, and turned to leave. As they made their way down the stairs, they went past a student who looked at Arthur in interest. She peered at Martin.  
“Oh, you look better! We were worried about you down here.”  
“Oh, thanks Samantha. I’m feeling a bit better now.”  
“Yeah, thanks for letting me have the pillows!”  
Samantha grinned; Martin could see her thought process about why exactly he would need more pillows and he flushed.  
“It was nothing. Have a nice day! And a nice night.” She left with a wink.  
Oh well, thought Martin. It was nice to know that the students accepted Arthur, as some people could be rather cruel to him. They made their way outdoors and although the wind was very cold, Martin sucked in the air eagerly, filling his lungs with the icy freshness. Arthur turned to him excitedly.  
“How about we go to the park? I know it’s cold but we won’t be out for long. If you feel too ill or start to feel tired just let me know and we will go straight back. Don’t suffer or I’ll just get sad.”  
“I’d love to go to the park.” 

Martin did enjoy going on walks, but it could be a melancholy affair walking by yourself so many times. He didn’t care one bit about the cold, especially as he had the warmest person in the world next to him. He did still have a slight sniffle, but his cold was almost gone and he did feel strong enough for this walk. This made him feel guilty again, as he was very capable of looking after himself. But Arthur was so radiant, he knew that he wasn’t just benefitting himself; Arthur simply shone when he was in his element helping people. And he was continually helping Martin; Martin had lived in Fitton for a very long time now, and he knew a couple of the people who lived around him by sight. He was the kind of person that gave a brisk nod, too embarrassed to say anything, but Arthur met any new person on their walk with a bright hello and good morning, making some people look at Martin with renewed interest. They had a short chat with a nice old lady who was diligently watering some plants in the cold who Martin occasionally saw at the corner shops, and after only about ten minutes of talking she had already invited them both round for a cup of tea sometime in the future. Martin didn’t even feel embarrassed by the attention, in fact he felt proud that he even knew such a kindly man. When they left, Martin turned to the bouncing steward.

“Do you know any of these people?”  
“No, but everyone’s so nice! This is why I love Fitton, I just have to give everyone a friendly hello!”  
“Arthur Shappey, you wonder.” 

Skip didn’t elaborate, but Arthur just buzzed from being referred to as a ‘wonder’. They continued down the grey streets until they were just outside the pretty gates of the park. No matter what people said about Fitton, and some people said a lot, the park was their pride and joy, as the citizens tried to keep it as lovely as possible. Even though it was a bitterly cold winter, the trees were still trimmed and there were a few evergreens standing vigilantly in contrast to the skeletal brown trees that were waiting patiently to bloom. They even had a duck pond, and Martin had even seen the odd person angrily fishing out rubbish from it just because they couldn’t bear to see the beautiful water sullied. In the spring it was lovely, as there was an abundant supply of fluffy ducklings, and Martin wished he could bring Arthur to see them now. Hopefully there would be a few ducks today, and he knew with certainty that Arthur would be content with that. They walked side by side down a little pebbled path, Arthur squealing at different intervals when he spotted a squirrel, a blackbird. When they reached the pond, they saw a few ducks paddling merrily and they stopped to watch. Martin saw Arthur’s happy face and wished he had thought to bring some bread. As if reading his thoughts, Arthur spirited a bag with a couple of pieces from his pocket.  
“You brought bread?”  
“Yeah, I know I should’ve asked but these were the pieces that felt a little bit hard. I thought it would be a pity to chuck them out, as the ducks won’t mind them.”  
“No, I’m glad you thought of it. Come on, let’s grab a piece.”  
They both took a slice each and giggled as it was difficult to tear it with one gloved hand. They both threw them at the ducks, who spotted the gifts raining down and eagerly paddled over. Arthur let out a happy little laugh.  
“Oh oh, I love ducks! They can fly and swim and their babies are so cute. I wish I had a duck.”  
“Why don’t you ask Carolyn to get you one for Christmas?”  
“Oh, believe me I’ve tried. But she said that no way would she let me loose on the world with a flapping menace and that I should just be happy with Snoopadoop, but I love Snoopadoop so I suppose it’s ok.”

The thought of Arthur being followed by a string of ducklings like a kind of mother duck while Carolyn shouted at him made Martin laugh. Even though the bag was now empty, he reached in for some crumbs with his ungloved hand but Arthur had thought of the same thing and their hands collided. Martin mumbled an apology, but Arthur clasped his hands around Martin’s, a comfortable reassuring touch. Martin tried looking at him, but Arthur was staring serenely at the ducks, a nervous smile evident on his face. Martin squeezed Arthur’s large hand with his own small one and clung on, feeling it enveloped in a warmth that the cutting wind had denied. They stayed there for a long time, content in each others’ company, but eventually they turned away from the paddling ducks. Neither had let go of the others hand, not even when they were confronted by a lamppost on a thin pavement; they did a sort of swing around it, to the amusement of passers-by. Some of the people they had walked past on the way there were still standing in their gardens doing their various jobs, and they thought that Martin looked happier than they had ever seen him. He waved jubilantly at them with his gloved hand, and they offered their salutations once more. Arthur and Martin had to let go of each others’ hands when they got back to the house, and Martin thought his hand felt very empty without the reassuring weight of Arthur's. When they got back in and up to Martin’s room, they settled on making some lunch. They didn’t mention the hand holding, but it was there in each others’ smile, the way they would brush their hands together by accident even when the kitchen wasn’t that small. When they were finished, Arthur looked at Martin a bit slyly which immediately caught his concern as he didn’t think Arthur knew how to be sly.  
“You must be tired out from all of that walking. Do you fancy another bath?”  
Martin could only nod dumbly, and Arthur hopped away towards the bathroom. Arthur was definitely being flirty. The world had gone mad, Martin was no longer in control and he loved it. Arthur came back into the room and he and Martin talked as they waited for the bath to fill, and even Martin couldn’t miss Arthur’s hungry look. Soon enough, Arthur went back in to turn the taps off and called to Martin that it was ready. Martin entered the bathroom to find Arthur unbuttoning his top.  
“Arthur, what-“

But his words were cut off as Arthur leaned over and pressed his lips to Martin’s, placing his hands around his waist and drawing Martin towards him. Martin was extremely shocked, but responded with an eagerness that surprised even himself. He deepened the kiss and put his arms around Arthur’s back, vaguely thinking how strange it was to be kissing someone so familiar. But it was wonderful, and Arthur was so sweet, so gentle. Arthur was immensely pleased that he had finally worked up the courage to kiss the lips that he had been watching for so long and was just so very glad that Martin hadn’t pulled away. He moved his hands from Martin’s waist to under his shirt and he felt Martin gasp as his hands explored his body. He never expected Arthur to be so forward, but then again he was an adult and he’d never really thought about what Arthur had been like in his relationships. The thing was, childish as Arthur could be, he loved people, and this was just another more intimate way of showing his love. People never really gave him the opportunity, as numerous boyfriends and girlfriends from the past thought he was just naïve, but Arthur knew how to love someone.

Arthur lifted Martin’s shirt off him and kissed his neck, and the shock of this caused Martin to take a step back. Unfortunately, this made Arthur lose his balance, as he was leaning on Skip, so it was inevitable in that small bathroom that they would fall into the bath. It wasn’t a very large bath, so they weren’t wholly submerged, but Arthur fell on top of Martin, who accidentally went beneath the surface, causing cascades of water to go over the edge, drenching the bathroom. He emerged gasping and absolutely covered in bubbles, looking so confused that Arthur couldn’t help but laugh. The sight of a fully clothed Arthur completely drenched and also adorned with many bubbles made Martin laugh as well, and they both found that they couldn’t stop for a good long while. Arthur hauled Martin upwards so that they were both at least sat in the bath and even though Martin looked absolutely bedraggled he thought he had never loved him more. Martin reached over and took off Arthur’s drenched shirt, then pressed his forehead against Arthur’s, still chuckling at the ridiculousness of him and Arthur being sat in a bath together with their trousers on. Arthur looked into his eyes, his own sparkling with mischief.  
“Naughty Captain Crieff; you’re not ill at all!”  
“Well, maybe not today. But maybe I wanted you all to myself.”

Arthur giggled, then brought their mouths together again. They remained like that until the water began to become a little colder, then Arthur lifted Martin out of the bath easily and practically carried him back into Martin’s room. Their feet left a trail of wet footprints but Martin found that he simply did not care, and didn’t even complain when Arthur removed his sopping wet trousers for him, and then his own. Arthur moved to flip the covers open so they could move inside and warm up together, and Martin threw caution to the wind and took off his boxers. Arthur stared at him with wide eyes, but did the same. He drew Martin towards him and slid under the covers, relishing the feel of their bare bodies together. They soon warmed up, but neither let go of the other. Even though he knew Skip hated it, Arthur loved that Martin was small as it meant that it was easy to hug all of him, even though Skip was worryingly skinny, which he was hopefully going to remedy. Martin felt so comfortable and protected in Arthur’s bearlike grip; he had never thought that being with Arthur would feel so good, so right. He pushed all thoughts of what Carolyn and Douglas would have to say about this new development away from his mind and snuggled further into Arthur’s embrace.

“Arthur, you know how we have a flight tomorrow?”  
Arthur’s voice was practically a purr, so content was he.  
“Yes, Skip?”  
“Afterwards, do you want to…can I make you dinner? It won’t be fancy, but-“  
“Like a date?” Arthur sounded absolutely delighted.  
“Um, yes, but I warn you it won’t be very exciting like going out to a nice restaurant.”  
“Staying in can be exciting! I sort of prefer staying in dates anyway because when you go somewhere posh or expensive there’s always a pressure to make it perfect. Watching telly can be perfect. Having a bath can be perfect.”  
Martin laughed at Arthur’s simple, yet perfectly true view on things and didn’t even think about what he said next.

“I love you, Arthur.”  
He heard Arthur pause and almost willed the words to retreat back into his mouth. Arthur brought his head down to Martin, looking at him very seriously.  
“D-do you mean that?”  
“Yes, you are the kindest and best person I know; anyone would be an idiot not to.”  
At this, Arthur’s smile was worth a thousand light bulbs, and he stared into Martin’s eyes with infinite kindness.  
“I love you too, Martin. I’m glad I can finally say it.”  
He leant in for another kiss, and when they broke apart, Martin’s smile was almost a match for Arthur’s.  
“You know what? I think being ill is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

**Author's Note:**

> I know I kind of twisted the headcanon by making Martin originally ill in the first place, but it didn't seem to work any other way. This is my first attempt at something a little steamy (ish) so please bear with me! I hope you enjoyed it :)


End file.
